Foxhole
by Alatus
Summary: Fact: Tony and Steve don't get along. Fact: Tony would rather take a kick in the pants then work with him. Fact: Fury says they have to anyway, and Bruce just knows this is going to end in flames. A collection of 22 interconnected one shots.
1. Defiant

**Disclaimer: **I don't own / hold the rights to Avengers or any other Marvel material. This story is purely for entertain purposes.

**A/N: **Whelp, I've officially put myself up to the challenge of writing 22 themed one shots, and actually having an over arching story for it too. This should be interesting. Here's the first one up to bat. (Probably a bit on the short end of what I'm going to end up writing.) Anyway, take a look and I hope you enjoy!

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**1. Defiant**

Banner, being the expert in all things gamma radiation, was the first to pick up the strange signal.

Tony, being Banner's number one science bro, was the second to know.

Fury, being the master of all spies, knew before they'd even finished hatching a plan.

Captain America being added to their mission was like a kick in the pants.

Tony grumbled, trying his best to ignore the blond goodie-two-shoes-boy-scout. This was supposed to have been _his_ and _Banner's_ mission.

No way was he playing nice with Captain Blondie.


	2. Powder

**A/N: **Tuda! Number two. Bit of a low key piece, but since I'm going for a story arch things will start to pick up a bit around the fifth prompt which (for those who are curious) will be: Data. Thanks for reading!

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**2. Powder**

The base that they'd picked up the signal from was up in the far north, well past civilization and well into the realm of places where people with secrets liked to hide. Their ride, a rather pathetic stealth vehicle by Tony's standards, came to a stop, informing them they still had to go another three miles before they'd reach the origin of the signal.

Tony huffed, stealth missions were the worst.

He rose to his feet, Iron Man suit already on, and yanked the door open, hopping out into the powdery snow. Banner came out next, bundled up tight in a winter coat, carrying a portable scanner that was tracking the signal.

Tony glanced back, intending to make a snarky comment about Capsical being a slow poke, only to see Steve flinch when several snowflakes blew into his face. Any sarcastic comments died on Tony's lips.

This was going to be a long mission. He already wished it was over.


	3. Grateful

**A/N: **Piece number three, which turns out to be four words shorter than the first one I wrote for Defiant. Oops. Though it was fun writing a more Bruce centered piece for a change. Anyway, thanks for reading!

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**3. Grateful**

Banner was grateful when Steve finally gave the order for Tony to start.

Friend or not, the billionaire had been horribly sullen since Steve had been added to their mission and in turn, had been taking it out on everyone else around him. At least, Bruce knew, blowing things up would put Tony in a better mood, and give him and Steve the perfect distraction to sneak in through the back.

The billionaire had been talking about wanting to test his new armour design all week.


	4. Empty

**A/N: **Moments away from posting this and I still find myself tweaking some of the sentences. I'm probably just being overly picky really. Next up, mad science lab! Thanks for reading!

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**4. Empty**

They followed Dr. Banner's scanner through the empty corridors. Captain Rogers had point, while Bruce struggled to map their current surroundings to the simplistic tracking device in his hands.

Silently he indicated to a hallway on their right, and with a nod Steve raised his shield, carefully moving ahead, scanning for guards the whole way. Finding it empty, he signaled Bruce to advance behind him.

It was slow going, but this mission wasn't about beating up bad guys. Their job was to get in, find the source of the signal and collect it. Abruptly Bruce came to a stop, drawing Steve's attention. Slowly he pointed toward the closed door on their left. Checking the hall once more, Steve moved to it, listening carefully to the other side before trying the handle.

Locked.

He sighed, giving the door a sharp shove with his hand, breaking it free from the doorjamb. They were in and it was by far the second weirdest lab Steve had ever seen.


	5. Data

A/N: Well, I'd always heard about authors having their computers die right in the middle of stories, but this is a first for me in all the years I've written fanfiction. Whelp, good thing I make backups. Thanks for reading!

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**5. Data**

"Shit!" the single word from Dr. Banner immediately set Steve on edge.

He glanced back from where he was standing guard at the door. Bruce was currently standing in front of a large control panel that had more flashing buttons on it than Steve knew what to do with.

"What's wrong?" he demanded, because as the leader of this mission he needed the facts.

Quietly he feared he wouldn't be able to understand the explanation Dr. Banner was about to give. The scientist's hands had curled into fists, his whole body taught. An animalistic growl escaped his throat.

Steve abruptly turned away from the door, now far more worried about his teammate. "Bruce!"

"They're making a super soldier," snarled Banner, his physique bulging alarmingly under his coat. "And they're using my data!"


	6. Decent

A/N: And things finally start to go SNAFU for our poor characters. But things can only get better, right? Right? (Laughs evilly) Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

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**6. Decent**

The plan was going smoothly. Tony had the base's mooks throughly distracted. The idiots kept trying to take pot shots at him, even though it was perfectly clear he was flying circles around them. Their aim was pathetically terrible, which made it all the more fun to rile them up.

All of it was going according to plan, which was of course the point when the building exploded into flames.

There was a distinctive animalistic roar from inside, and Tony realized then and there things had gone horribly wrong. He made short work of the men still firing at him, before rocketing off toward the damaged building.

He just hoped he wasn't too late.


	7. Go

A/N: Whelp, I have to say this challenge is certainly stretching my writing talent a bit. It's interesting trying to get all the key information down in such a short amount of space. Dialogue / characterization tends to be my biggest strength. Hmm, I think I'm going to have to write a more dialogue focused one.

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**7. Go**

"Go!" shouted Steve, which as far as Tony was concerned, was the stupidest thing the Cap had said yet.

The building was falling down around their ears, the Hulk was who knows where, and the Great Captain America had himself trapped beneath so much twisted metal and rubble the only thing saving him being crushed completely was the stupid tricolour shield of his.

"Get out of here Stark!"

"Shut up!" Tony snapped right back, because he would be dammed before he let Steve Rogers pull any more of the self sacrificing bull crap that his father had praised and praised him for. "Your not being left behind!"

For a moment Steve looked stunned, mouth gaping slightly, but Tony was too busy trying to figure out how to get him free without bringing the rest of the burning building down on their heads.

Steve so owed him one after this.


	8. Shame

**A/N: **Shorter piece again. Not much to say about it really. Hope you enjoy!

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**8. Shame**

"Look out!"

They'd been out of time and Tony had been too hasty. He'd blasted the rubble trapping Steve a little too hard and now the whole building was coming down.

There was no time to react.

No place to go.

Steve tackled him to the ground, raising his pitiful round shield like an umbrella as the sky descended and everything went dark.

Tony, to his shame, knew this was all his fault.


	9. Objective

**A/N: **Mwhaa, finally I managed to sneak in a dialogue centered piece. Plus who doesn't like Jarvis and a little deadpan humour.

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**9. Objective**

"Sir. Sir! It is highly advisable that you awake, Sir."

Tony scowled, mumbling, ". . . go 'way . . . Jar."

Sleep. Sleep sounded nice right now.

"Sir, Captain America is bleeding," there was the slightest of pauses, "rather profusely might I add."

Tony's insides ran cold. His eyes snapped open, only to swear loudly and profanely as several aches and pains made themselves known. "Ugh, what hit me?"

"A building, Sir."

Tony groaned, trying to look around, but his display was badly cracked. "Call for help?"

"I have already tried numerous times, Sir, but all comm links are currently down." There was a long pause. "Your going to have to dig yourselves out."

"Dig?" echoed Tony with disbelief, finally regaining some of his addled senses. "What do you mean dig?"

"Thrusters and repulsers are also off line."

"Terrific." He let his head fall back, and finally caught sight of Steve's blood covered face. "Shit. Jarvis!"

"Scanners are also damaged, I am unable to fully assess the Captain's current condition, Sir. As it is, you will have to administer first aid."

"Wait– No no no-no-no! I don't know the first thing about–"

"Sir. You should also take note the building is still on fire and that this location will not remain safe."

"Right." He drew a deep breath. "Alright. One thing at a time then." He looked about. "Like getting out of here . . ." he muttered, breathing heavily as he rolled carefully out from under Steve. He struggled to push himself up in the small space available to them. "Right. One: vacate premisses. Two: patch him up. Three: we find Bruce."


	10. Strength

**A/N: **This was an interesting prompt to play with. Especially since I didn't want to just invoke physical type of strength with this piece. Over all, I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out too.

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**10. Strength**

Captain America was strong. Tony remembered being amazed by stories his dad would tell him as a kid. How the Captain could lift a whole car with his hands or punch holes through solid steel.

Steve was no light weight, and now Tony was struggling to try and carry him through a snowy forest.

But… it was more than that.

The idiot should have used the shield to protect himself more, not…

There'd been a metal beam imbedded in the ground like a spike and from the scraped paint on the Cap's shield it was clear it had been heading straight for Tony's chest. He swallowed hard, trying not to think about what could have happened.

Snow fluttered lazily around them as he hiked Steve up higher on his back, sighing.

He kept trudging forward, following the path of broken tree limbs and giant footprints. "Head in the game, Stark," he reminded himself. He was their only chance of getting out of here while Bruce was tall green and angry.


	11. Life

**A/N: **I've seen several pieces now that has Tony babbling when nervous, and I figured I had to try it out for myself. Of course I now have a second idea in this vain that I'm going to have to try out later. There's room for a lot of good jokes.

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**11. Life**

When Tony was nervous he tended to natter, and when not interrupted that always led to him talking about pretty much anything that came to mind. Unfortunately in this case, his mind kept going to the unconscious blond on his back, which led him only to one type of topic: his own life.

"My dad always said you were someone to look up to and you know what, completely wrong. You are an idiot. Period. No more said. If kids looked up to you then they'll start throwing themselves into traffic, all in the name of saving little lost kittens. Don't deny it, you know I'm right. Of course, you look more like a dog person than a cat, oh! And your preferred dog better not be a golden or I swear I'll drop you right here and now."

He paused only briefly enough to take a breath before continuing.

"Good. I always wanted something like a border collie when I was a kid. A dog with a proper intelligent brain, not some droolie idiot that only ever wants its belly scratched. Of course, Dad said no, since Mom was allergic, so I just went and built a windup dog instead, named it Cap and everything– I can't believe I just said that. I'm so glad you're unconscious right now."


	12. Contempt

**A/N: **Huzzah, I've officially past the half way point with my prompt list. Which means I'm half way to being done. Huh. Well, still have quite a few interesting prompts to do before the end.

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**12. Contempt**

When Steve showed signs of waking up, Tony had been delighted, relieved, elated– until Cap opened his big stupid mouth. "Howard?"

He'd dropped Steve in the snow right there and then. The blond groaned, curling in on himself, and Tony stood as still as a statue, every one of his muscles locked tightly in place.

At his feet, Steve weakly turned his head, uncaring of bloody streak he left in the snow. Glassy eyes looked up, struggling to focus on Tony, not really seeing him at all.

It wasn't his fault, Tony's mind whispered. Steve had been careful never to mention Howard in his presence, even when Tony could see the questions burning in his eyes. He couldn't blame him for this.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Tony tried to let go his anger. Steve had saved his life, right?

So, why was it so hard to just let this go?


	13. Wrong

**A/N: **And finally a piece more from Steve's prospective. Feels like it's been a while.

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**13. Wrong**

Everything felt wrong. His head was killing him. What had happened? He'd tried asking Howard, but the inventor was apparently in one of his sour moods and wasn't answering.

Steve had his arm slung over the other man's shoulder as they traipsed through a wild landscape he couldn't for the life of him recognize. Had a mission gone south? Where were the others? Were they safe?

"The– the Howling Commandos… Howard, did they–"

He tripped, and would have fallen if Howard hadn't hauled him upright. He clung to the inventor as he struggled to get his feet back under himself.

"I'm okay," he tried to say but the words came out so badly garbled he didn't think Howard understood him. It was a lie anyway. The world was spinning before his eyes and his stomach seemed about ready to rebel against him too.

"Howard–" he tried again, not understanding why that kept making the other man stiffen.


	14. Sweeten

**A/N: **Hmm, this one took me by surprise. I hadn't initial thought I was going to write anything back in the 1940s, but to tie a few idea together I figured I needed this one.

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**14. Sweeten**

"Let me sweeten the deal," Howard had said to him once, and Steve had immediately become wary. "Not only, will I keep them off your back, I'll make sure they keep their hands off you entirely."

Despite himself, Steve felt a rush of relief at that. From the smirk Howard was sporting, he'd noticed too. But there was still one thing concerning Steve. "What's the catch?" he asked quietly.

"Who said there was one?" The smirk had only gotten larger.

Steve remained silent, knowing full well it would convince Howard to talk.

The inventor huffed. "Well, at some point this war is going to end. Ever think about what you would do then?"

"Well…" He'd had a few thoughts, but it was nothing he wanted to share.

"If those scientists have their way, you'll never see the light of day after this war is done with you," Howard told him casually, examining his hand. "But if you were working for someone like me… well, that's a whole different story." There was a glint in his eyes that Steve was far too familiar with. He'd seen that same look in every one of the scientists he'd just asked Howard to help prevent him from becoming a lab rat to.

Dread began to bubble up inside him. "You want to recreate the Super Soldier Formula too."

Howard raised his hands in surrender. "Guilty as charged." Only to casually tap his chin with a finger. " You know Rogers, no one wants to think it, but there'll be other wars. You might have an edge now, but people are always trying to push the limits. What we need is not just to recreate the formula, but improve upon it." Numbly Steve shook his head. "No? But you haven't even heard my ideas yet, they've got me working on this this thing called the Manhattan Project, and if things go well, I think I can use the radiation–"

"Howard," cut in Steve, rising to his feet. "I'm sorry, my answer is still no."


	15. Hands

**A/N: **When I first looked at this prompt, I was kinda at a loss of what to do with it. Hands is kinda a generic word, until I thought, oh hey, fist fight. Anyway, thanks for reading!

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**15. Hands**

Steve crashed to his knees, hands splaying out. His fingers burned, disappearing into a layer of white that for a moment he couldn't even recognize. Snow. There was snow everywhere, and snow meant ice.

Panicked seized him, and he recoiled, knocking someone off him as he tried to get away.

He back peddled, only to freeze when he caught sight of the person who'd tried to grab him. A bald head and sharp chin line all in the colour of fresh blood and his fear turned into a razor-sharp weapon.

He lashed out, barely holding back a snarl as the man he'd chased all over Europe ducked the blow. His hand curled into a fist ready to go another round with Schmidt, the man who was indirectly responsible for Bucky's death.

He lunged, fist drawn back.

"God dammit Steve stop!" The shout got his attention, more than the normal human face that suddenly materialized as . . . Schmidt's face detached and flipped up from his chin?

He blinked, skidding to a halt as he finally took in his opponent more carefully. It was armour . . . red and gold metal incasing a very normal, if not somewhat panicked face, staring back at him.

Slowly he lowered his fist, opening his mouth, only to falter. "Tony?"


	16. Strangle

A/N: I actually ended up rewriting this one a couple of times. I wanted to show a bit more camaraderie between Steve and Tony, while still keeping in line with the prompt. An interesting challenge to say the least.

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**16. Strangle**

Never before had Tony wanted to strangle someone so very much. It wasn't the legendary Star Spangled Man, the great Captain America's fault, well… not really.

Jarvis said there was a storm coming in fast. A bad one.

Tony made an aggravated sound as Steve tripped over nothing for what had to be the millionth time, forcing him to haul the blond back upright _again_.

"Sorry," whispered Steve.

Tony said nothing.

He knew Cap was trying his best to keep his balance, trying his best to keep moving, but his best was absolutely pathetic, and worry had always made the billionaire snappish.

"Tony?"

Tony huffed, sending a cloud of vapour up into the air. He was keeping his face plate up after the little mishap earlier. That had been down right frightening.

"Yeah?" he finally asked, but the other didn't answer. "Steve? Hey! Steve!"

Dull eyes blinked, taking far too long to focus on him once again. "What…?"

Tony couldn't remember the last time he'd been this stressed. "No passing out, got it?"

Tired eyes blinked at him once more. "'Kay, Howard."

Tony gritted his teeth. "Just… hang in there, Steve. I'll get us out of this." _Somehow._ The wind howled in the trees.


	17. Lullaby

A/N: Ha HA! I've wanted to come back to the idea of Tony nattering about his life. I really couldn't pass up on my second idea. Hard to believe there's only five more prompts left after this one, so while I'm thinking of it, I'd like to give a big thank you to my reviewers, you guys have been great!

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**17. Lullaby**

The storm was on them, and Tony didn't know what to do.

Cap's healing factor should have made a difference by now, but . . . it hadn't.

Tony squinted against the howling wind. It was like . . . like Steve was shutting down. He was still putting one food in front of the other, but he hadn't said a word in over an hour, and Tony dreaded there was another cause at play.

The last time Steve had gotten this cold was when he crashed a plane into the ice, becoming a living popsicle for seventy years. For all the benefits of the Super Soldier serum, Tony feared Steve's body was dropping him right back into that state.

The wind roared in Tony's ears, trying to drown out everything else. He winced, throat raw. Turned out his nervous tic of nattering wasn't so great when there was a full fledged snowstorm going on. But listening to said storm was far worse.

Maybe . . . maybe that was what prompted him to start humming.

It wasn't until he hit a familiar string of notes that Steve suddenly mumbled out, " . . . bullet in the barrel of your best guy's gun." Tony faltered, and the wind roared back in his ears.

He'd been humming the show tune to Captain America's war bond tour.


	18. Carry

A/N: Hey look Bruce is back! Our little group is finally reunited. Tony can finally check that point off his list. Of course, I'm not actually sure he made a list of what do after that point.

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**18. Carry**

As it turned out, it was the Hulk who found them.

Not that Tony cared, he was just happy to see a familiar face. "Buddy!" His frozen face cracked into a grin, not at all caring about Bruce's current appearance.

Hulk lumbered toward him, and Tony tugged Steve into moving to meet him. "I need your help–"

Tony winced as the not-so-friendly green giant let out an ear splitting roar. A green fist pounded the ground, making the whole forest tremble. Tony stumbled, nearly going over when Steve's legs gave out.

"Hey, take it easy!" Tony yelled up.

Nostrils flaring, the Hulk whipped about to face them and snarled. Tony stared back, not really sure what had set the other off. The Hulk continued to stare at him, and not knowing what else to do, Tony looked down at himself, then at Steve. He grimaced, realizing the state they were both in.

"Sorry buddy, nobody to smash today."

Hulk let out another snarl, and charged. Tony, to his dying day, would deny the very unmanly squawk that escaped him, as both he and Cap were scooped up by the green behemoth.

The Hulk deposited him somewhat roughly on a giant shoulder, where Tony was left flailing to find a grip for himself. Thankfully Bruce didn't seem to mind a little hair pulling.

With far more care, the Hulk lifted Steve, cradling the captain close to his chest with one arm. He spared Tony one last glance to make sure he hadn't fallen off, before taking off at a bounding run.

Tony let out a whoop. Now this was a far more stylish way to travel.


	19. Whispered

**A/N: **I've discovered it's very easy to have Tony natter on about something. The hard part is making sure he doesn't take over the piece with incessant prattle. Anyway, no update tomorrow, but be sure to check in Monday for prompt #20 - Rhythm.

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**19. Whispered**

Steve's brow twitted. His head . . .

"Hey, hang a left! Jarvis thinks there's something over that way . . . or don't. I guess that works too. You do know where you're going right? You're not just going to let Steve freeze out here right?"

Someone was carrying him like he was a child, cradled in the crook of their arm. But . . . that couldn't be right.

"Cause that would be bad–"

A deep rumble sounded near his ear, reverberating through him.

"Right, you're right. I'm babbling again."

What . . . was going on? It took monumental effort, but eventually Steve got his eyes open. At first, all he could see was an expanse of cloudy white sky and quiet falling snow. He sucked in a sharp breath, which caught the attention of whoever was holding him. A large green blur entered his line of vision. Steve blinked again, struggling to focus.

The Hulk stared back.

Maybe because his head was pounding so bad, Steve found he wasn't scared. "Hey, big guy," he said quietly, and then flinched as a snowflake landed on his cheek.

The Hulk let out a low rumble in his throat, which Steve took to be an attempt to reassure him. He gave a weak smile, allowing his eyes to fall shut. Ahead there was a mechanical rumble . . . a car?

He heard Tony give a shout of delight, but he was too tired to look. Hulk made a pleased noise, and for just a moment he could have sworn he heard the Hulk whisper, "Capt'in safe."

Even if he was wrong, Steve knew he was in good hands.


	20. Rhythm

**A/N: **I think this has got to be one of the more tricky ones I've written. Not so much in concept, but rather in getting it to sound just right. Took a while, but I think I'm finally happy with the thing. Hard to believe I only have two more to write before Foxhole is finished.

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**20. Rhythm**

_Beep_ . . . _Beep_ . . . _Beep_ . . .

The slow steady sound didn't so much as wake him, but rather alerted him that he was awake again. Slowly Steve opened his eyes, blinking once, twice at the bright florescent lights above his bed.

Hospital.

His fingers curled against the mattress. Not again. Not again. His gaze bounced around the room, not settling until he caught sight of a sleeping figure beside him. Steve turned his head and stilled.

Tony.

A soft sigh of relief escaped the blond, as all the tension ran out of his frame.

Still 2012 then.

He regarded the bandage on Tony's left cheek. That's right their mission had gone south, and . . .

A shiver ran through him, and Steve buried himself further under the heaps of blankets on his bed. He'd been– the cold–

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

He startled at the increased tempo from the heart monitor. Right. Steve closed his eyes, drawing one slow breath and then another, until the beeping settled down again.

For a long moment he just lay there, staring at the nondescript ceiling. Beside him, Tony let out a soft snort, shifting slightly on the corner of Steve's bed that he'd claimed as his pillow. Steve smiled, pushing against the mattress so he could sit up.

He hissed as a dull throb in his head made itself known. Grimacing, he glanced nervously at the other, only to thankfully find Tony was still fast asleep. Good. Steve drew a breath, reaching down to peal one of his blankets off. He shivered at its loss, but carried on, draping it carefully over the other's shoulders.

"Sleep well, Tony," he whispered, sitting back, and finally settling in for his own quiet vigil.


	21. Spying

**A/N: **One more to go! Over all, this has been quite a fun piece to write, and of course challenging in places. I think I managed to get a pretty coherent story out of the whole thing considering it started out as 22 random prompts I got from a list.

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**21. Spying**

The big guy had an uncanny sense of direction, as Bruce found out when he finally woke up in a hospital out in the middle of nowhere. The second thing he realized was how very alone he was in the tiny little room. Bruce decided not to stick around to find out who had brought him there.

Creeping down a hallway, he let out a silent breath, bare feet moving soundlessly on the chill linoleum floor.

The last thing he recalled was seeing his very own data staring back at him from the base's computer system. Even now the thought made his blood boil.

He forced himself to stop, taking a slow deep breath. This was what got him into trouble last time. He couldn't afford another tantrum. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he just hoped the others were alright.

A sound to his left drew his attention.

Bruce frowned, stepping toward the half ajar door and peered in. Steve sat in the only hospital bed in the room, struggling with what looked like a Stark pad, and beside him, fast asleep, was Tony Stark face down on the edge of the bed.

Bruce regarded the two banged up Avengers, and felt a terrible pang of guilt. This was his fault. He'd brought the roof down on their heads, all thanks to his uncontrollable temper.

And worse yet, he knew they'd forgive him for it.

They were good friends like that, though no matter what they said, he would owe them a huge apology for this.

Bruce drew a deep breath. No use standing here. He reached out, pushing the door open and stepped inside.


	22. Revelation

**A/N: **And here we are, twenty-two shots later at the end. A big thank you to everyone who reviewed, read, or even just lurked around the story. You guys have been great, and I hope you enjoyed! Also a big shout out to Merideth-kun who helped beta some of these one shots for me. Of course, now sitting here at the end, I realize I sorta named the piece from my initial idea of having Tony and Steve bunker down somewhere during the snowstorm, which unfortunately didn't make it into the the final story, but hey, that's part of the fun of story telling. I'm never quite sure where the tale's going to end up. Thanks for reading!

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**22. Revelation**

Bruce tapped the end call button on the Stark Pad. "SHIELD should be here in an hour to pick us up."

Steve nodded his thanks, still a little embarrassed he hadn't been able to figure out how to get the tablet working. He regarded the scientist for a moment. "How are you holding up?"

Bruce shifted awkwardly. "I'm fine. Missing my glasses, but well, nothing new there."

"And . . . the data?" Steve asked, and Bruce stiffened at its mention.

For one tense moment no one spoke.

It was several more before Bruce felt sufficiently calm enough to apologize. "I'm sorry. This one is on me. I just . . ." He rubbed at his tired eyes. "I thought all of it had been deleted years ago. I should have known better."

"It's not your fault."

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Bruce. "Not my–"

"Bruce, you were taken by surprise."

"That's not an excuse. It shouldn't have happened to start with."

Steve shook his head. "Maybe. But you know what I remember?" He waited until Bruce was looking at him. "I remember you carrying us out of there. You got us to safety, Bruce, and that's what's important." He smiled, adding with a laugh. "I can't imagine how it must have looked, the three of us showing up in front of that car you found."

Bruce frowned. "I think it was snowmobilers." Steve let out another chuckle, but Bruce didn't see the humour. Director Fury, for one, was not going to be happy with them. "That data . . . it's still out there."

But Captain Rogers was already shaking his head. "No. It's gone, Bruce, right along with that lab." But for all the confidence in Steve's tone there was an equally troubled look on his face.

"What? What is it?"

Steve hesitated. "Your research . . . you didn't happen to start it, did you?" There was almost a hopeful note in the blond's voice.

Bruce eyed Steve for a long moment, before slowly shaking his head.

"Oh." Steve swallowed hard, suddenly looking ill. "That's . . ." He ran an agitated hand through his hair.

Bruce let him be, knowing Steve was more likely to talk if he wasn't pressed.

It was another few minutes before the Captain found his voice again. "Did you know that Tony's father, Howard, was interested in the super soldier formula?" He grimaced, slowly adding. "I don't have proof, but the stuff he said, I think– after I went into the ice– he might have started doing research with the military."

"And you think my research comes from that."

Steve nodded, eyes staring at nothing. "He mentioned using radiation."

Bruce sat back, rubbing his face. Of all the things . . .

"Bruce?"

"I'm okay . . . I guess." He sighed, finally looking back up at Steve. "What do we do about it?"

"What we already did. If there are more places out there like that one, Tony– I mean, Stark will find them."

"Of that, I have no doubt." Bruce gave a wry smile. "But next time, we're letting Tony blow the place up."

Steve let out a hearty laugh, while beside him, Tony continued to snore into the mattress. Bruce wouldn't be surprised if the inventor started drooling soon. "Here." On a whim, Bruce leaned forward, pushing the Stark Pad toward Steve. A rare mischievous grin spread across the scientist's face. "Let me show you how to use the camera."

As for the rest of it, well, they'd worry about it later.

END


End file.
